


Eight Hours

by strawberryrose



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, somewhat melancholy, the last day of filming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:01:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberryrose/pseuds/strawberryrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it comes right down to the last minute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight Hours

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in the middle of writing four different fics. So what did I decide do? Aidean drabble! Sure, why the heck not?
> 
> Strangely, not for a kinkmeme prompt! Rather, it was inspired by a post on Peter Jackson's facebook (https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10151750669621558&set=a.10150238899061558.364437.141884481557&type=1&theater), the text of which revealed that Aidan and Dean waited about eight hours to do their first shot of the final day of shooting.
> 
> Mostly written in about fifteen minutes at 8AM without having slept. So please forgive the deviation from my usual style, ha. Love love, everyone! ♥

Aidan was not sulking over his last on-set lunch, precisely. Or at least, if he was, Dean was sulking just as much. Aidan wasn't really eating, though, and his mouth was in a vague frown that had been growing all week. Dean flicked a bit of bread at Aidan to lighten the mood, but got in response a sad look.

"I don't wanna leave."

"I don't want you to leave."

Aidan dropped his gaze and played with the morsel of bread on the table. "I'm gonna get so drunk tonight."

"We all are."

  
\---  


Aidan stared out the little window of Dean's trailer, the game controller slack in his hands. His FIFA partner, Stephen, had just nipped off to the bathroom for a moment.

Not liking the wistful expression on Aidan's face, Dean poked him in the ribs as best as he could through Kíli's endless layers. When Aidan turned to glare at him, Dean gave him an inquisitive look. Aidan sighed so quietly that Dean wouldn't have been sure he had were it not for the fall of Aidan's chest.

"I don't wanna leave."

Dean hesistated in surprise for just a moment. "I don't want you to leave."

"We never did go back to that beach together."

"Which beach?"

"You know, the one we went to with Ads and Jed and-"

"Oh, right. I did want to go back there with you."

"Just us, like you said back then?"

"Yeah. There's a nice restaurant near there that only has tables for two. Wanted to take you there."

"Would've liked that."

  
\---  


Strictly speaking, nobody was supposed to smoke in-costume. That said, Dean noticed that none of the various crew members bustling past seemed to particularly care about the cigarette in Aidan's hand. It was between scenes - not _their_ scenes, they hadn't been up yet today - but they'd been hovering at the edges, watching Richard and Graham work.

"I don't wanna leave," Aidan murmured, unprovoked.

"I don't want you to leave."

"What if I stayed?"

"You could stay with me." The answer was so natural that it was out of Dean's lips before he had a chance to think _once_ about it, much less twice.

"I could stay with you in New Zealand, or I could stay _with you_ with you?"

"Either one."

"Mmm. That would be nice."

"Wouldn't even make you pay rent, if you did the cooking."

Aidan snorted and pinched Dean through his costume, and that was the end of that.

  
\---  


They were at the very end of the dinner line. It only seemed fair, since almost everyone else had been working hard, while they had been puttering about and waiting to be called on. In reality, though, it was because when Dean had stood from his chair to join the rush of people headed for the cafeteria, he'd turned to Aidan and been met with such a defeated posture that Dean had immediately stepped forward and embraced his friend tightly.

"I don't wanna leave," Aidan had mumbled into his shoulder.

"I don't want you to leave."

"I can't stay, though."

"Why not?"

"My visa's gonna run out."

"That's okay. We can get married, and then you can get a better visa." There had been a long pause, in which Aidan had only breathed heavily in Dean's arms. "Aidan?"

"...I don't wanna leave."

"I know you don't, Aid."

In the dinner queue, Dean reached over and took Aidan's hand in his.

  
\---  


The better part of an hour past dinner found the both of them sitting on the studio floor, staying out of the way, leaning against one wall and into each other. Aidan was slouched a little farther than Dean, his head resting on Dean's shoulder. They were alone, more or less, but not isolated. The studio's hubbub was all around them, but no one close enough to hear when Aidan whispered,

"I don't wanna leave."

"I don't want you to leave." The answer had become automatic at some point that day, but Dean wasn't sure when.

"I love you."

"I love you, too." That answer was automatic as well.

Aidan hesitated. "How do you mean that?"

"Are you asking if I'm gay?"

"I know you're not gay. I'm asking if you're bisexual."

A smile broke across Dean's face, and he didn't have any inclination to stifle the small laugh that bubbled up in his chest. "I might be bisexual for you, buddy."

Aidan snuggled in just slightly. "Good. Because I might be bisexual for you, too."

  
\---  


When Peter called cut at the end of their last scene, and everyone cheered like it was New Year's, Aidan was not surprised that Dean grabbed his face and kissed him full on the lips. He was thrilled, but not surprised.

  
~End~  



End file.
